Oysters
by Phantasmagor1a
Summary: I made you. Your mother didn't.


**Characters:**

**Poor Woman**

**Man**

**Rich Lady.**

_A poor woman dressed in a dirty and ragged, blouse, apron and skirt. And a man dressed in a dark maroon suit with a tie. An ugly wooden table with a shining gold tablecloth on top of it. But the gold tablecloth doesn't cover the ugliness of the table's legs and corners._

Poor Woman: Tell me it's not true.

Man: I'm sorry.

_The poor woman nods and looks up at him._

Poor Woman: One man is not worth two woman. You have to pick me, or her.

_Pause._

Man: I pick her.

Poor Woman: What?

Man: I pick her.

Poor Woman: You can't. No.

Man: I want her.

Poor Woman: _Screams_ NO.

_She rushes to him and pulls on the front of his suit. He stands still and lets her shake him, before she throws him aside. He stumbles backward and grips the table._

Poor Woman: Dog.

Man: Bitch.

_Pause._

Poor Woman: Whats my problem?

Man: She's better than you.

_The man lets go of the table and storms off. The poor woman sits on it slowly, rubbing her fingers on the spot the man had gripped earlier._

Poor Woman: When I was young, my mother taught me how to turn a plastic bag into a kite.

_A rich lady dressed in a long red dress and gold gloves made of the same material as the tablecloth, and wearing pearls walks up. She has hair that is of the same colour and texture as the poor woman, only hers is styled elegantly and the poor woman's hair looks like a bush. The rich lady sits on the table two feet away from the poor woman and holds out her hands. The poor woman slowly removes her gloves for her. The rich lady speaks as she does so._

Rich Lady: Why didn't she just buy you one?

Poor Woman: We had better things to do than buy one, and there were plastic bags in the cupboard under the sink.

Rich Lady: The kite didn't last for very long, did it?

Poor Woman: No, but the best part of it, was that every time I wanted to fly a kite I could find a plastic bag anywhere and do it.

Rich Lady: Cheap. Valueless.

Poor Woman: Valueless and priceless mean the same things.

Rich Lady: Excuses.

_The poor woman puts the gloves on the table where they almost disappear, stands up, and walks to the centre._

Poor Woman: I'll tell you something that will knock your silk stockings off.

Rich Lady: What?

Poor Woman: That wig you wore was made from the hair I sold to pay for ration cards for my family.

_The rich lady is stunned. She removes bobby pins from her hair and takes off her wig. She throws the wig at the poor woman who catches it with both her hands. The poor woman forces the wig onto her own head. It falls off to the floor._

Poor Woman: My brother. He made your shoes. We left him behind in China because the boat only had room for three, and I could speak English.

_The rich lady kicks her suede shoes off and throws them at the other woman one at a time. The woman takes the blows with her head down._

Poor Woman: Your pearls, they're real. Sometimes when I went out fishing for food, I found an oyster with a pearl in it. I slit the insides of the ones with the pearls and let the ones without pearls live. I collected the pearls and sold them to pay for my mother's open heart surgery.

_The rich lady pulls on the string of pearls. It breaks and the pearls clatter on the floor._

Poor Woman: My mother still died because the surgery failed. The surgery failed because the doctors felt she couldn't contribute to society.

_Pause._

Poor Woman: And one of the ingredients in the skin cream you use, was the water I needed when I fainted from dehydration while working in the sun.

_The rich lady is shock still and wide-eyed._

Poor Woman: That's why I don't cry, because there are plenty of people on Earth who need the water more than I need to lose it.

_Pause._

Rich Lady: I never cried because I didn't have a reason to.

Poor Woman: You do now.

Rich Lady: Why?

Poor Woman: Because I made you. Your mother didn't.

_The poor woman bends over and scoops up the pearls. She stands up again after she has collected about a handful in her hands._

Poor Woman: This is for the oysters who died.

_The woman lets the pearls she's holding fall into her mouth. She pulls out a dagger from under her apron which she gives to the rich lady. The rich lady slits both the poor woman's wrists and the poor woman leaves with bloody wrists. The rich lady falls down onto her knees and kisses the spot where the poor woman stood._


End file.
